


Adaptive Circumstance

by DragonflyxParodies



Series: A Fable, Agreed Upon [7]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Flora Hates Conflict, Flora-centric - Freeform, Gen, Guilt, Introspection, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Still, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: Flora apologizes, and comes to a decision.
Relationships: Bloom & Flora & Musa & Stella & Tecna (Winx Club), Flora & Bloom, Stella & Brandon
Series: A Fable, Agreed Upon [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165049
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Adaptive Circumstance

It takes an hour longer than usual to cajole everyone down to the dining hall for dinner, but Flora is nothing if not persistent and eventually she gets her friends seated with actual food and lets herself _relax_ for a heartbeat.

The scariest thing about it all, she thinks, is that none of them had _noticed_. Bloom’s been meeting up with _witches_ and Flora hadn’t even clocked her frequent trips to Magix as anything _weird_. Or the solo study sessions. She’d just thought –

Bloom has not been noticeably withdrawn. She has not been noticeably hiding anything from them. There _were no signs_ , she thinks, and then she recalls Bloom in those first few days of the semester, so loud and inquisitive and chattery and _bright_ and how rarely she contributes in classes _now_ and –

Flora cannot afford to take any time for herself right now, to work her shame out into something that might yet flourish for her mistakes. She’d been too relieved that Bloom’s questions had _stopped_ to consider what that meant for Bloom. She’d been annoyed and thought them disrespectful and out-of-place.

She doesn’t know what makes her sicker; that Bloom had been _right_ to quiet herself or that Flora had so readily believed she _should_.

She makes them all eat, even herself, and then fixes them all mugs of the most comforting herbal blend she can scrounge up and herds them all back upstairs. Musa is the only one to catch on, and they trade strained smiles as Musa helps bump Stella back into the little knot they’ve made up as they push their way back to the suite.

Musa is the one to propose the slumber party. Stella transforms the couch into a giant mattress. Bloom scavenges every pillow and blanket she can find; Flora helps Tecna rig up a crude canopy.

She’s glad of it. None of them would do well on their own tonight, she thinks. Not after Tecna told them what had happened with her predecessor, her Mother.

It’s not something Flora understands – not something she _had_ understood. Zenith is – antithetical to everything she holds dear. But she’d _heard_ the love in that computer’s voice, _felt_ the emotion. More importantly – she’d seen the comfort it brought Tecna.

What she does understand is the gut-wrenching _punch_ of loss. What she does understand is the way Stella’s eyes had gone supernova, how her lips had thinned to a mere wire of molten metal. What she does understand was the resigned _fear_ in every single one of Bloom’s shaky exhales.

They’ve only just finished setting up their fort – thus ending a _very_ opinionated tirade from Musa over correct pillow-fort architecture – when Stella’s phone chimes with an incoming call.

They _all_ turn to stare at the device. A poorly taken photo of Timmy glows over its surface.

“Timmy is _absolutely_ not calling you right now.” Musa says, and Flora – pauses.

“The boys went to…speak to the others.” She says slowly.

She’d been so fucking _relieved_ over it. Everything is so _tense_ and she’s so _tired_ – oh she _hopes_ this is just a continuation of that -

“Hello?” Stella’s voice is so bright and syrupy with such fake sugar-sweetness that Flora cringes a little. Bloom’s expression morphs into one of pure horror, and she whirls around to face the rest of them so quickly her hair slaps her in the face and she goes down by Musa’s legs with a wince.

“Oh, honey.” Flora can’t help her laugh, as short and quiet as it is.

“Well _you_ _’re_ not Timmy! In fact, _who is this?_ _”_

“Is she really doing this in front of us?” Bloom hisses, and Flora picks her way across the room towards her friends. Tecna is sitting on a pile of pillows, head cocked as she watches Stella carefully.

“Is this some kind of…power move?” Tecna asks hesitantly.

“She probably doesn’t want to be alone right now.” Flora chides softly, and when Musa offers a hand she takes it and then settles in carefully beside Bloom.

“Oh it’s _Brandon_ , is it. Do you hear that girls? His name’s _Brand –_ don’t you fucking test me. You’re not on speaker _now_ and _that is a courtesy_.”

Flora flinches at the _heat_ in Stella’s voice, sharp and sudden and _commanding_.

“Stella, you’re upsetting Flora. Keep it civil and we’ll go help you ambush the fiancee.” Musa says suddenly.

Protests rise to her lips unbidden, but Stella – pauses. Goes still. And then flashes her such an apologetic look Flora forgets to breathe for an instant.

Musa catches her eye when she turns to the rest of them, settles down between Bloom and Tecna.

“What? Babe, I know we have to work on your stress tolerance or whatever, but _you_ _’re wilting again_.”

“There’s a lot going on!” She protests, and she can _feel_ her face growing hot, even as the ends of her hair curl into brittle, jagged little spirals.

“You’re blushing _green_.” Bloom says, awed.

“It’s the chlorophyll.” Tecna says automatically, and as if it could possibly get even worse, Flora feels her blush _deepen_ because Bloom gets that look on her face like a child in a candy store.

And she –

Tecna enjoys the challenge of explaining everything to Bloom. Flora knows Musa doesn’t mind – she’s traveled a lot, she says, and she’s been the one asking questions more often than naught. And Stella _loves_ to share anything and everything she possibly can. But it’s – it’s _different_ for her. She’s not sure how to put it into words.

It’s flattering, kind of. Bloom looks at everything like it’s wonderful and new, because for her it _is_ , but she just – she _asks_ things.

“I read somewhere, when I was little, that Linpheans don’t like change. And I _hated_ that.” She says softly.

Stella casts her a concerned look, though she doesn’t pull away from her phone, and the other three are looking at her so _intently_ , and – and, she realizes, she’s crying.

“I’m not trying to be difficult or mean about it.”

Linphea is _about_ growth and change and adaption and flourishing where one’s seed falls, and she’s _always_ believed that. Always hated the idea of her home and her people as some stagnant, hostile little garden. Plants don’t _live_ like that. That was why she’d been so sure that Alfea had been the right choice for her; out of her comfort zone, sure, but – she’d thought herself capable of adapting to it.

And then Bloom had – not even _intentionally_ – asked all of those silly questions and at first Flora hadn’t been able to figure out _why_ even knowing she was from Earth, and then Bloom had _pressed_ , and.

It isn’t as if Bloom had asked things that challenged anything Alfea taught, not really. But there’d been that undercurrent of skepticism, and it had _rankled_. The questions had been uncomfortable and the _but why_ s that followed even more so, and now that Bloom’s found something substantial that Alfea has actively _hidden_ from them, not just held until they are senior students…now that there is a woman dead and buried and an entire _planet_ attacked…

Flora does not understand Zenith. She and Tecna are the most diametrically opposed of the group; the natural and unnatural, the made and the _built_. But if someone came to Linphea and set fire to the roots of the Yggdrasil…

Bloom’s talked a little bit about the religious groups on her homeworld. The magical dimensions don’t have that, not really – but there would be nothing else Flora could so clearly consider sacrilege as _that_. So – she _hurts_ for Tecna.

“You’re not.”

That – snaps her out of her thoughts. She looks up, and Blooms warm hands fold over hers. The Earth fairy smiles at her, soft and gentle and maybe a little sad but _genuine_ , and Flora’s vision blurs again.

“I get it, Flor.”

“It wasn’t right of me to ignore you like that, or to put you down, just because I was – uncomfortable.”

“It was wrong of me to _make_ you uncomfortable.” Bloom says softly, and Flora shakes her head, feels the plants in her room shudder as she draws in a deep breath and tries to calm herself down.

She doesn’t think Bloom realizes how warm she is – a different kind of warmth than Stella. Stella is bright-hot and blinding, like the sun on the brightest day of summer. Searing, almost.

Bloom’s heat is – softer. It doesn’t ebb or flow. If Stella’s is arid and dry like a desert – Flora would say Bloom’s heat is humid like a jungles’ but that sounds so stupid even in her own head that she blushes again.

“It shouldn’t have _made_ me uncomfortable.”

“That is categorically false.” Tecna’s voice is quiet but no less firm for it, and Flora can’t help her surprise.

“Yours is the only other homeworld to hold trust and good faith in its governing body as closely as Zenith does. I was under the impression figures of authority would never lie to me, and would merely refrain from teaching dangerous material. You were under the impression that figures of authority would only lie or hide that material for legitimate and genuinely compelling reasons.”

“…Yeah. We should be able to hold Alfea and Magix to the same sorts of standards we would our own governments. It’s – it _really_ sucks that we can’t.” Musa says. Her voice is rough. Flora reaches out without thinking, and takes one of Musa’s hands in her own.

Musa’s been the most collected of all of them about this. Flora had thought maybe it was because she didn’t care, but –

“I don’t know about you, but I chose Alfea because it was supposed to be independent from all this homeworld politic bullshit. And it’s even worse here than back home!”

“Don’t worry, girls. If it gets that bad we can transfer to Cloud Tower.”

Stella’s voice startles Flora badly enough that she jumps, feels her plants jerk a little in their pots. And then her words catch up to her and she whips her head around to find Stella, phone still pressed against her face, settling in against her side.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Stella sniffs, before Flora can respond, and – ah.

“Still talking to S—Brandon?” She asks. Stella reaches up with her free hand and catches her cheek; by the time Flora has processed what Stella is doing, she’s wiping Flora’s tears away with her thumb and Flora starts crying again, harder.

“Timmy can tell you if he thinks you should know.” Stella’s expression is soft and gentle and a little amused but her voice is so cool and dismissive that Flora can’t _help_ but flinch a little.

“Of course not. _I_ can forgive _you_ , but I won’t ever forget this. You used me. You lied to me. And you made me the other woman. And you made _Bloom_ the other woman! But I’m _angry_ , Brandon. Not _cruel_. I can compartmentalize my problems with _you_ from my problems with your idiot _prince_.”

“Oh hell, we’re going to have to do this again?” Bloom wheezes, and lets go of Flora’s hands to start flailing at Stella.

“What - hold on. No, honey, you get first dibs. But you best believe I have a thing or two to say before this is all over!” Stella hisses, and prods Bloom’s leg with her foot, and then rolls her eyes and peels the phone away from her face to scowl at it.

This close, Flora can make out the tinny quality of S - of _Brandon_ _’s_ voice. He doesn’t sound very apologetic, but Flora’s unsure if that’s because Stella is threatening revenge against his lord or if that’s because the call has already covered his groveling.

She’s not quite so conflict-adverse as to let the boys get _away_ with what they’ve done; she would just prefer everyone handled it as soon as possible and avoid all the tense energy they’ve been putting off.

At least Brandon is _trying_ , she supposes. Sky’s behavior has been _less_ than stellar.

“Not to be rude, but I’m done with this conversation. Tell Timmy the next time he calls it’d better be him on the other end!”

“ _Stella!_ _”_

“I mean, you gotta agree that _some_ rudeness is deserved here, Flora.” Musa laughs, even as Stella tosses her phone across the room. The sound it makes when it hits - something - makes Tecna wince, but Stella seems so unconcerned that Flora can’t bring herself to worry over it.

“It’s not the rudeness that I’m objecting to!”

“Anyway! Flora’s right, I think. We all owe you an apology, Bloom.” Stella cuts in, and for all the dismissal she’d shown to Brandon, she’s the picture of decorum as she turns her gaze to Bloom. Even her aura’s shifted, so completely and so effortlessly -

Flora narrows her eyes at her. That is _suspicious_ , and if Stella’s been able to do that _this whole time_ then that bodes poorly for her innocence. So does the way Stella refuses to meet Flora’s glare.

“I’m not mad, I don’t mind, I understand, and if we have to talk about it again I think I’m going to cry so can we consider this _handled?_ _”_

“Depends on if the boys are joining our coven or not.”

“Jury’s still out on Sky and Brandon, but I think we’re like legally obligated to let Timmy and Riven in at this point.”

And that - that is something she can latch onto, focus on, pour herself into while she tucks away all her shame and hurt and pain for some later time.

“I know we’ll be recording sensitive information down, and what with - well. With what Tecna’s Mother told us? I think discretion would be a wise idea.” She lets go of Bloom’s hands and settles hers in her lap.

“…Yes?”

“I can make some special inks and tailor them to our magical signatures. As magical beings, the boys have one too - and it’s not _impossible_ to forge one, but I think it’d be better than nothing. And maybe better than casting visible wards on it - if anyone comes looking for it, that’s what they’ll go for first.”

Bloom’s eyes turn starry again, and Flora feels her _ears_ burn.

“That is _so cool!_ How’d you learn about that?”

“My cousins taught me. We still write each other with it now; we’ll write something silly or draw a picture in regular ink or graphite over it so it isn’t so obvious.” It’s a good memory, and she smiles as she says so. Bloom looks - concerned, for a moment. But the girls let it pass, and Flora feels something in her ease.

“Sounds absolutely brill to me!” Stella chirps, and claps her hands, and there’s a flash of light and -

“Did you just use magic to put on your _pajamas?_ ”

“That’s unnecessary and _blinded_ us.” Flora protests, even as she hears Stella giggle and Musa cackle and there’s a soft little thrum as she blinks the spots out of her vision. When it’s cleared, Musa too has changed.

“Teach me that spell.” Tecna requests, already crawling off her pile to harass Musa, and -

“Come on, Bloom. We’ll go change like _adults_.” Flora teases, and she offers Bloom a hand amidst their friends _ooing_ and laughing and teasing, and Bloom smiles at her bright as ever, and -

And Flora thinks that everything is going to be okay. Even hours later, when Bloom wakes them with a strangled cry and near-hysterical tears and thrashing the likes of which Flora has never seen from someone uninjured, even after they calm her and get her to lay back down and Flora can feel her trembling against her arms like a leaf in a gale -

Everything _will_ be okay. Even if she must _make_ it okay herself – they will be _fine_.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgot to say this but uh  
> So there’s this YA series about fairies by Aprilynne Pike that I remember reading back in HS (tldr; fantastic concept, I think it went downhill bc love triangle shit in later books but I don’t remember hating the ending so it was probably fine). And I think it fits Flora (+Linphea) very well. In the book, fairies were basically just humanoid plants – they needed sunlight, didn’t really need to breath, exhaled oxygen, etc. I am borrowing the base concept for Obvious Reasons lol. It fits well, I think.


End file.
